What's Wrong with the Clothes I Have?
by ATimelessLove
Summary: Gods, he looks good, she thought to herself, staring at his bare chest. Maybe even better than he does in leather.


_For a small town, Storybrooke, Maine sure has a lot of options for one's wardrobe,_ Emma thought as Killian and her strolled into one of the town's more popular clothing stores.

"Lass, remind me. Why are we here?" he asked, as they stepped into this place his love liked to refer to as a "department store."

"Because you need some new clothes," she responded.

"But Emma, what's wrong with the clothes I have?"

"You're joking, right?" she asked, eyeballing him. "I don't know how long you've had that," she said gesturing at the long, black leather coat and tight leather pants that he was wearing, that he was always wearing, "but I'm guessing awhile."

He groaned. This had been his signature look for as long as he could remember and he wasn't too fond of the idea of changing it.

"Plus, I'm sorry, but in this world, you can't just walk around in a long leather jacket and leather pants all the time. For as much as it makes you _hot_, it makes you hot."

"You think I'm hot?" he asked her with a smirk on his face.

"Shut up," she responded, rolling her eyes.

They sauntered over to the men's department, where Emma grabbed Killian five pairs of dark-wash skinny jeans, knowing how he likes his pants tight enough to potentially castrate him; red, black, grey, and blue deep v-neck tees, knowing how he likes to air out his chest; and two leather jackets, one in black and one in red, to match hers. As for the sizes, she just guessed, figuring she knew his body well enough to make the right choices.

She plopped her findings into his arms and, with her hand pressed to his back, guided him into one of the dressing rooms to try them on.

Killian opened the door to the empty room and stepped in. He put his clothes down on the bench inside and stripped down til he was in nothing but his birthday suit. He never did like wearing underwear, for he hated how it felt against the leather of his pants.

He picked up one of the pairs of pants Emma had found and shimmied himself into them. Checking them out in the provided mirror, he had to admit he didn't exactly hate the view, not that he would ever admit that to Emma.

"How's it going in there?" he heard her call from outside.

"Truthfully?"

"No, lie to me," she responded, rolling her eyes while tapping one foot against the wall behind her she was balancing on.

Killian was quiet for a second, a second too long.

Emma popped her head into his dressing room to ask him if everything was alright, but before she could speak, her eyes landed on him and her voice hitched in her throat.

Killian stood in the middle of the room in one of the pairs of jeans she'd picked out for him. Just in the pair of jeans. His shirt was otherwise occupied in his hand.

Emma studied him like he was a masterpiece made by da Vinci. His perfectly sculpted abs that flowed down to the jeans that seemed to be almost painted on him.

Before she knew what she was doing, she moved to him, slipping her fingers under the waistband of his jeans. _Gods, he looks good, _she thought to herself, staring at his bare chest._ Maybe even better than he does in leather_.

With her breath still caught in her throat, Emma circled him, her fingers touching every inch of his waist. Her eyes never leaving him. She bit her lip, hard, as she stood behind him. She took one of her hands out of the waistband of his pants and planted it firmly on his ass.

She continued circling him until she was again facing him head on.

After just a simple look in his eyes, she pressed her lips to his collarbone, pressing nearly hard enough to leave a mark. She pecked kisses all the way down his chest, her tongue darting out like he was an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. Her hands following suit, running down him in perfect rhythm.

"Emma," he whispered breathlessly. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she said, looking up into his eyes when she was finally resting on her knees.

With her hands and lips at his waist, she slipped her palm under the waistband to feel how ready he was for her.

He wanted to protest, but the only sounds he could get out of his mouth were soft moans.

As she worked her one palm against him, her other hand went to work on unbuttoning his pants.

"Emma, I just got those on."

"Yah, and now I'm taking them off," she said pulling his pants down to his knees.

To her pleasant surprise, there was no fabric between the pants and him.

"Well now we are definitely buying these," she muttered to herself, before taking his length into her mouth, carefully sliding her tongue over every single nerve.

She pulled him in and out of her, over and over, fucking him with her mouth. He groaned in his throat, as quietly as he could. She held his tip between her lips and circled it with her tongue as she watched his face for his reaction. Killian's eyes closed and his head fell back as a soft "Oh Gods" feel from his lips. He moved his hand to grasp onto her long, blonde curls, pushing her to him, until he was hitting the back of her throat. Killian's breathing became ragged and she could tell he was close. She slid her tongue over his shaft a few more times until it was suddenly all too much and, with a soft grunt echoing from his throat, he came in her mouth.

Emma swallowed and licked her lips slowly as she stood to meet his eyes. She kissed him chastely, so he could taste himself on her. Breathless, his forehead came to rest against hers. Between his shaky breaths coming from his rapidly beating heart, the only words he could manage were, "that was…"

"I know," she said, her breath just as shaky as his.

She looked between him and the rest of the clothes he had to try on. With one hand rested on his shoulder, to stabilize him, she picked up the rest of the clothes. As she did so, he pulled up and buttoned the pants he was wearing.

"Let's go," she said, as he put his leather coat back over him. With her hand still on his shoulder, she leaned into his ear and whispered, "I can think of much better ways to spend our Saturday."


End file.
